The Cure of Souls

and Merrily remembered, with an inner shudder, precisely where she’d been standing this time yesterday.

‘I have to be careful what I say here, Mrs Watkins,’ Mr Shelbone said. ‘As you may have heard, I’m not a very popular person in some quarters. Though I try to do what is right and Christian.’

Merrily nodded. Tell me about it.

‘The problem with councils,’ he said, ‘is that, although different departments – let’s say planning and social services – have very different functions, and officials rarely encounter one another in the course of their work, they’re all closely linked, through the elected members.’

‘In that a councillor who serves on – shall we say, planning…’

‘May also serve on social services.’ He nodded. ‘You’re being very perceptive, I think.’

‘No, I’m just putting two and two together from what I’ve been told. You’ve a history of getting in the way of certain people’s plans. They’d like you out. Your wife indicated you’d been offered some sort of early-retirement deal, but you wanted to go on.’

‘We all feel we’re here for a purpose, and protecting the past is mine,’ he said simply. ‘How could I relax at home, knowing wrong decisions were being made and important buildings were in danger of disappearing for ever?’

‘Especially religious buildings?’

He bowed his long head, like a shire-horse over a gate.

‘So someone who might be adversely affected by a planning decision influenced by a ruling from you,’ Merrily said slowly, spelling it out, ‘might seek to use any influence they might have in Social Services to damage you in other ways.’

‘Knowing that if I became ill or… disgraced in some way, it would be difficult to continue. You don’t believe people would behave like that?’

‘To get rid of someone seriously damaging their potential incomes? Of course I believe it. But, just so we know where we are, are you suggesting a bunch of councillors are on the take from Allan Henry?’

‘I doubt it’s as simple or as provable as that. It might involve a new garage or an extension to someone’s house. All peanuts to Henry, of course. But I’m not naming names.’ He looked directly at her, eyes full of pain and fatigue. ‘All I want to convey to you is that if anyone took Amy away, it would destroy Hazel. There’d be nothing left for either of us. Ever.’

‘These fears are very much in the wake of Amy’s overdose?’

‘Gossip travels fast in Herefordshire. In no time at all, people were linking Amy’s sudden hospitalization… to the incident in the church.’

‘They were linked, weren’t they?’

He looked defiant. ‘It was a horribly stupid and dangerous thing to do, and she knew it. I said to Hazel, if Amy wanted to draw attention to herself, she’s certainly done it now.’

‘Is it your feeling she was just trying to get attention? Rather than…’ Wanting to be with her mother?

‘And it’s all horribly exaggerated, I’m sure.’ Avoiding her question. ‘Because serious churchgoing is so unfashionable these days, people have accused us of being fanatics, forcing Amy to go to church all the time, operating a strict religious regime at home. I…’ He passed a hand across his eyes. ‘There’ve been all kinds of stupid stories. People are so needlessly cruel and vindictive. And social workers have big ears.’

‘You don’t need big ears when somebody’s whispering into them,’ Merrily said. ‘Have there been any formal inquiries? Any contact at all from Social Services?’

‘I have some friends left in the office. I’ve been discreetly warned, put it like that.’

‘As a result of which, Hazel’s actually taken her away?’

‘I – no. No, she hasn’t, of course. That was untrue.’ When he half turned, she thought it was to hide tears, but he was putting a hand into an inside pocket.

He slid a folded paper across the desk to her.

Merrily unfolded it carefully. Though the message was word-processed, it didn’t looked official – probably something to do with the fact that the paper was pink and had a kitten in the top right hand corner.

Oh God.

Dearest Mum and Daddy,

I am so very sorry. I have behaved abbominably and feel I am ruining both your lives. I pray that you will understand what I am doing and support me in this and not worry for my safety because I have definately learned my lesson and you need have no fears on that score any more.

I know it is not your fault and that you were only trying to protect me by not telling me the truth about Justine, but I know now, beyond all doubt, that my real mother is very unhappy and cannot rest in spirit and I know I cannot live a normal life until I have done all I can to help her.

By the time you read this I will have been to a cash machine and drawn out the money that you said was mine from your account. I am sorry I borrowed your card and will post it back to you.

Please try to understand how important this is to me and do not try to find me or tell the Police. I am quite safe, but if I find out that they are looking for me I will be very upset and might do something stupid, so please trust me and I shall return home in a few days, when Justine is at peace.

Yours sincerely,

Your loving daughter,

Amy

Merrily folded the letter. Oh God, oh God, oh God.

‘Erm… I’m with Dennis,’ she said as calmly as she could. ‘I think you should take this to the police.’

David Shelbone reached for the letter and quickly pocketed it.

‘No,’ he said very quietly.

‘David, just a couple of days ago she tried to kill herself.’

‘Tell me, do you trust your daughter when she tells you something?’

‘I…’ It was the things Jane didn’t tell you about… ‘Yeah. I suppose I do.’ She thought quickly. He wouldn’t want to go to the police for two principal reasons: one, that Amy might indeed do something stupid if she thought there was a search on for her, and two, it would confirm any social worker’s suspicions.

But this development might be more serious than David Shelbone could imagine. For instance, how much did he know about Layla Riddock? Anything at all?

‘She’s never lied to us, you see,’ he said. ‘Not from being a small child. Not about anything. It’s the way she was brought up, certainly, but also the way she is.’

Merrily sighed. ‘She lied – I’m sorry, but she lied about Jane, didn’t she?’

‘No!’ he insisted. ‘She didn’t. She said your daughter was there. The rest was implied. She didn’t lie.’

‘So when you told Sophie that your wife—’

‘I lied. Hazel’s gone to try and find her.’

‘She knows where to look?’

‘She has a good idea, yes.’

‘Where?’

‘Up near Birmingham. It’s where Amy was born. And where her mother died.’

‘And Amy knows this?’

‘We assume she does.’

‘From…’

‘Initially, from the so-called messages she received.’

‘The spirit messages?’

‘Whatever they were, they were horribly accurate. And so, in the end, we had to tell her where she came from. And what happened to her mother.’

Merrily said, ‘Do you think you could tell me?’

She’d been born Amy Jukes at Tipton in the Black Country. Her parents were even married before the happy event. Just about.

Justine was seventeen when Amy arrived and not yet a heroin user. She came from a respectable family,